


Tally Marks

by SlasherFiend



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: BAMF Chris Argent, BAMF Peter Hale, BAMF Stiles, Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-24
Updated: 2016-11-24
Packaged: 2018-09-01 21:33:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8638843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SlasherFiend/pseuds/SlasherFiend
Summary: Stiles is saved from a encroaching pack, but what happens when the tables are turned and he has to rescue Peter and Chris?





	

**Author's Note:**

> my first Teen Wolf fic and it's these three, I just wanted them interacting but got this instead.  
> Any mistakes are my own, unbeated.

Stiles struggled against the arm that was pinning his arms back, against his sides, and against the hand that was tight over his mouth. He could feel the sharp tips of claws digging into his forearm and cheeks. His breath puffed against the werewolf’s hand. Three others were circled around Stiles.

Stiles grunted, trying to twist out of the grip, but the Alpha, a guy with messy hair stepped up to Stiles, shoes crunching leaves.

“We’ll need you scream to get the Alpha here,” the guy said, staring into Stiles’ hard brown eyes. “He’ll come to rescue his friend, the weak human.”

Stiles’ fingers twitched, reaching into his pocket.

“Are we really going to kill him?” the lone female, a Beta asked.

The Alpha turned and Stiles slipped his hand into his pocket, grabbing the small emitter before the guy holding him yanked on his arms, pulling his hand out.

Stiles switched the emitter on, keeping it clenched in his fist.

The werewolves all groaned, all but the one holding Stiles put their hands to their ears.

The Alpha moved, reaching to grab the emitter from Stiles.

Stiles wasn’t going to open his hand and he wiggled against the one holding him, the wolf’s hold slipped and Stiles twisted free. Stiles went to run, but the Alpha grabbed him, yanking him back, claws digging into his wrist.

“Let go,” the Alpha snarled.

Stiles gave a small cry of pain as blood rolled down his arm.

“Let go or you lose your hand,” the Alpha growled.

Stiles bit back a whimper of pain as he let go of the emitter and the Alpha removed his claws. Stiles grabbed his bleeding wrist and watched the Alpha crush the emitter in his hand.

The others breathed a sigh of relief.

“Cute device,” the Alpha said, tossing the debris on the ground. “Your own personal howl.”

Stiles took a step back from the Alpha.

“But now you really need to scream,” the Alpha hissed, advancing on Stiles.

Stiles thrust his bleeding hand into his pocket and pulled out another emitter, turning it on.

The rest of the pack howled in dismay, covering their ears again.

The Alpha snarled, eyes flashing and reached for the emitter.

Stiles took a few steps back when there was a whistle and explosion of bright light.

The pack all shielded their eyes, Stiles turned away. Another whistle and explosion followed, the pack moved off into the woods.

Stiles went in the other direction, but the Alpha lunged, grabbing him as he passed. Stiles shoved the emitter in the Alpha’s face, causing the wolf to back off a little.

The Alpha’s eyes glowed and he snarled. Another explosion went off and the two turned away from it. But Stiles was still moving in the opposite direction of the Alpha and his pack.

The Alpha reached out once again, to try and grab Stiles; he grabbed the boy’s hoodie and yanked. There was a loud ripping, but Stiles stumbled away, glancing back at the Alpha.

“I’m going to make you scream you bitch,” the Alpha snarled. He took a step but then something large and black came up behind the Alpha. The Alpha gasped out and gurgled out blood before dropping to the ground.

“The only one making him scream is me,” Peter said, staring at the dead Alpha.

Stiles walked over to Peter. “I don’t think his pack needed to know that,” he said.

Peter smirked. “Maybe, but they’ll leave you alone now that they know there’s another Alpha protecting you.”

Stiles let out a sigh, but nodded.

Peter inched closer. “Let me see your wrist,” he said softly.

“I’m fine,” Stiles told him.

“You’re bleeding, I just want to take the pain,” Peter huffed.

Stiles held out his hand.

Peter took his pain and there was a crunch on leaves.

Stiles turned to see Chris walking towards them. “I told you putting GPS trackers on those things wasn’t a bad idea,” the young man said.

Chris humphed.

“Though the fireworks were a bit much,” Peter told him.

“It got the pack to scatter didn’t it?” Chris asked. “Made it easier for you to go after the Alpha.”

“I didn’t need the help,” Peter said, rolling his eyes.

“Confusing them got them away from Stiles,” Chris said, stepping into Peter’s personal space.

“And Stiles is very grateful,” Stiles told them. “But I would like the hunter to patch me up before hashing it out with our Alpha.”

The two men turned to him, and then Chris placed a hand on Stiles’ shoulder. “Let me see.”

They walked back towards Chris’s car and Peter followed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Why am I not surprised?” Peter sighed as he flexed against the rope holding him to the wooden chair.

Chris turned to see the other hunter who had snatched them walk in and Chris groaned through his gag, also tugging at the rope that held him down.

The hunter, a short man with wispy balding hair came over to Chris, placing a hand on the other man’s shoulder. “You’re getting soft hanging around all those kids Argent,” the hunter said, tightening his grip.

Peter growled, “They’re keeping Beacon Hills safe. Next time you’re in town I’ll introduce them to you.”

The hunter snorted and let go of Chris, staring at Peter. “There isn’t going to be a next time.”

Peter arched an eyebrow. “Oh really? It’s not as if that’s an original threat. Do you hunters just pass that around as a mantra, as a way to tell yourselves you’re superior?”

The hunter snarled and punched Chris in the face. Chris groaned, blinking as he tried to get his head to stop ringing. “I can’t hit you,” the hunter said to Peter. “But I can hit him in your place.”

Peter leaned forward, as far as the rope would allow. “Is that supposed to bother me?”

The hunter shoved Peter back, the chair creaking as it readjusted Peter’s weight. “I know about you two,” the hunter said. “How you’re fucking.” He turned to Chris. “Such disrespect for your family name, your legacy,” he spat.

Chris glared.

“Just because we’re having a good time doesn’t mean we care about each other,” Peter said.

The hunter chuckled. “If it were a one-time thing you would have broken it off already. It’s been over a year.”

Peter said nothing.

The hunter smirked. “Got nothing else to say now?”

“That’s not true, I can always think of something,” Peter said with his own smirk.

The hunter rolled his eyes and stepped away from the two, moving to a corner of the basement.

Peter strained at the rope, but it wouldn’t snap.

“That’s probably not going to hold an Alpha for very long, but the rope is made with wolfs bane,” the hunter said, not looking at Peter. “Literally made with it, the stems were woven into the fibers.” The hunter turned with a wicked grin and Peter groaned.

The hunter held a hammer in his hand. “You can heal, but broken bones still hurt like a bitch.” He tapped the hammer against his palm. He approached Peter and then the window behind Chris smashed, glass tinkered down and the hunter turned.

A smoke bomb flew in and the hunter backed away from it, going to the door. The smoke filled up the room and the men coughed.

Peter heard someone crawl in the window and drop to the floor.

The hunter heard it too and turned, throwing a knife in the general direction of under the window. The knife clattered to the floor.

It wasn’t long before Chris was up; tossing the cloth that had been used to gag him to the floor. The other hunter unlocked and opened the door, but Chris followed. The smoke bomb was kicked aside and Stiles stood next to Peter.

Peter grinned. “Clever boy.”

“Yeah I know,” Stiles said as he went over to the hunter’s tools and grabbed a knife. Stiles turned back and began to cut at the rope holding Peter.

“I take it this makes us even then?” Peter asked, watching Stiles work.

“I don’t know, was someone keeping count?” Stiles asked, not looking at Peter as he worked.

Peter chuckled. “I know for a fact you have it memorized how many times you have come to help Chris and me.”

“Only because it doesn’t happen that often and I have to do it alone,” Stiles said, pulling some of the rope away. "I've lost count how many times you've come to save my ass."

"And it's a very fine ass," Peter said with a smirk.

Stiles rolled his eyes.

“What does this make it then? Six?” Peter asked.

“Seven,” Stiles replied, crouching to get Peter’s feet, but smiling at him as he did so because both of them knew the score count wasn’t serious. “How’s Chris doing?” Stiles asked.

Peter listened to the hunters upstairs. “Hard to tell which body that’s being thrown against a table is his,” Peter replied.

Stiles pulled the rope from Peter’s ankles and the wolf stood, growling, eyes flashing red as he raced upstairs to help Chris.

 

Later, Chris lay in bed while Stiles tended the hunter's minor wounds. Well he attempted to, Peter stood nearby in case the teen fainted. “How did you get my smoke bomb?” Chris asked.

“I know your pass-code,” Stiles answered.

Peter chuckled. “Are you surprised by that?”

Chris looked at the Alpha. “Did you tell him?”

Peter scoffed.

“I found out on my own,” Stiles said. He looked at Chris. “It’s Allison.”

“Chris,” Peter said, ready to offer a condescending statement.

“No,” Chris said sternly, eyes glittering with tears. “Don’t you dare!”

Peter fell silent.

“It’s all in numbers anyway,” Stiles said. “So if someone tries to guess it, they’ll get it wrong at least once.”

Peter sighed and sat down on the edge of the bed. “I didn’t take you to be so predictable,” he said, running a hand through Chris’s hair.

“Says the Alpha werewolf who couldn’t resist slicing that guy’s throat open,” Stiles said.

Peter rolled his eyes and Chris pulled him close for a kiss. Peter’s hand went to Chris’s cheek and the blackness of pain rippled up Peter’s arm. Peter pulled back from the kiss. “Trying to take advantage of me?”

Chris snorted. “I’m trying to be in reasonable pain so I can rest.”

“Well if that’s the case, since we all had a trying day,” Peter said and looked at Stiles. “We can’t forget our nest mate.”

Stiles snuggled in against Chris’s back.

The three shut their eyes and Chris muttered, “Next time I’m putting GPS chips in all of us so we don’t have to rely on Stiles’ father for the location.”

Stiles laughed and Peter chuckled.

**Author's Note:**

> come see me on tumblr- I'm shipperfiendobssesser, we can talk Teen Wolf


End file.
